Heroes and Villains
by Becks93
Summary: Normal wasn't her style, but she had never expected to be kidnapped, by a curly haired stranger, or saved, by an Irish one. Question is who is the hero and who is the villain?
1. Chapter 1

The London traffic roared in the distance as the young woman lay warming herself in a sunny Hyde Park. She only had a few brief moments to block out the world before she had to leave, so she made the most of them by listening to her favourite, calming, music. Her current casual outfit of denim shorts and a plain white top was not the best for a date at the police station, she would have to change but for now she turned her face towards the sun, letting the orange penetrate her thoughts as the smell of grass wafted around her nose. It was peaceful, calm and yet it wasn't to last as a shadow passed over her.

"Excuse me"She said, opening one eye to see the silhouette of a man. "Can I help you?" She sat up, removing one of her earphones whilst trying to get a better look at the figure that was disturbing her day; he had his back to her and despite the deliberate placing, she could tell he was tall, with curly hair and a coat that billowed in the summer breeze. The longer he stayed silent the more nervous she became, but regardless of her fear she couldn't help staring at him; it was too late by the time she noticed the second figure, the man sneaking up behind her. She was grabbed from behind, her mouth and nose were covered before she could make a sound; the chloroform did its job, she tried to hold her breath but to no avail. The world buckled as her legs did and darkness consumed her mind.

* * *

When she awoke, the first thing to greet her was a pain in the neck from where she had been slumped forward in a chair; she tried to raise her hand to rub the sore muscle, but found she couldn't move it. She opened her eyes and jerked her head up with a start, she immediately regretted doing so as the light burned her eyes and the room swam around her; she closed her eyes again and memories of the park and the figure came flooding back.

Adrenaline coursed through her body, every nerve was screaming at her to get away, she shifted her weight in the chair trying to gain some kind of purchase on the bonds that held her; they were too strong. Slowly she opened her eyes and the room came into focus, the first thing she noticed was the homeliness of the place, there was a sofa facing her; she was in someone's living room. She was tied to a chair in someone's living room?

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself; she had to think rationally if there was to be any chance of an escape, but the more she thought about it the more confused she got. She couldn't get it to make sense; compared to her kidnap, which had been well planned and almost professional, this was kind of amateur. Not that it mattered; the mistake could be used to her advantage.

She opened her eyes again, now that she was a bit calmer, and studied the room in an attempt to find out where she was; between her and the sofa was a coffee table covered in papers of all kinds and an expensive mahogany chess set, there seemed to be a smiley face spray painted on the wall above the sofa. This was definitely not a family home, she thought, it was more of a bachelor pad, the thought sent the panic rising within her; she tried once again to tug her arms free from the torn cloth tying them to the arms of the chair, no chance. She tried to calm down by taking deep breaths and imagining she was back in the park.

Her senses heightened as she heard the sound of footsteps to her left, she turned her head to try and get a better view, immediately regretting this when she noticed the knife that the curly haired man, the man from the park, was carrying. Closing her eyes, she willed herself away, back in the park; she focused on imagining the smell of the grass and the sound of her music. No matter how hard she tried, she was here, in this moment, he edged closer to her, and she reopened her eyes as he slowed, before stopping, behind her.

Her breath hitched as he used one finger and slowly moved her long, dark, ponytail from the back of her neck, slipping the knife underneath over her, now exposed, skin. Her fingers dug into the arms of the chair, as terror coursed through her body.

"I don't want to have to hurt you. Give me the information I want and then you can leave." A posh dark voice said into her ear, she tried to turn her head to face him, he dug the knife slightly and she tensed. "Uh, uh, no, just tell me what I want to know." He purred, moving his head away from hers. She had no idea what the stranger was talking about, the only thing she knew for sure was that he had no intention of letting her leave, at least, not alive.

"I'm waiting"

"I… I have no… I don't know what you want!" A tear escaped and made its way down her face, taking a small sob with it; her captor replaced his face next to hers, she could hear his steady breath in her ear, and the knife stayed, steady, behind her.

"Now, now, no need for that. Just tell me what I want to know." He grabbed her hair with his free hand, jerking the knife; her breath caught in her throat for a moment and more hot tears rolled down her face, as her long hair fell to the floor. In response to his actions, all he heard was a soft whimper of shock; the man realized he was getting nowhere and lowered the knife in obvious frustration. Then, he took a breath, before resting his hands on the girl's shoulders; she let out a sob of both relief and terror as he threw the knife; it embedded itself in the wall opposite with a solid thud, confirming the strength of the man.

"What do you know?" He shouted, clearly frustrated at the situation. "Nothing," the girl whimpered, fearful of what would happen next; such fears never came to pass, as the door was thrown open.

In the doorway stood another man, handsomely dressed in an immaculate grey suit that accented perfectly his short dark hair and huge chocolate brown eyes; he seemed calm as he rested his shoulder leaning his weight on the doorframe.

"Has it really come to this, you have to kidnap girls to get information now. Let her go." The newest man purred his words tinted with an Irish tone.

"And why should I?" The curly haired man retorted, in a response to his refusal the Irish man nodded his head towards the kitchen; she couldn't see what was there but judging from her captor's reaction, she doubted it was anything good.

"No." The man, who, only a moment ago, held a knife, said quietly as he staggered backwards; the Irish man approached her, deliberately keeping his eyes fixed on the curly haired man, as if they had the power to hold him at bay. Only when he knelt before her did her look towards her; she sniffed, trying to stop the tears from flowing, he gave her a small grin, before, gently, wiping away a tear.

"It's okay now, you're safe." He purred, working on the fastenings that held her; his hands were swift and soon she was free. Shuffling herself forwards on the chair she tried to stand, her attempts were halted by the hand of her saviour on her shoulder. "No honey, you're too weak, let me help you." She nodded, another tear rolling down her cheek, and she hated how weak she felt; his hand went from her shoulder to her back, as she tried to stand again. She wasn't strong enough to support herself, falling backwards until he caught her and lifted her, with his other hand tucked under her carefully carried her from the flat, she couldn't help but notice that the kitchen was empty; she pushed such thoughts away and concentrated on the fact that now she was safe. She rested her head on her hero's shoulder; she didn't notice the needle he pierced into her leg. Her breathing slowed and she drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep; the Irishman smiled to himself as he placed her into the backseat of a waiting car before getting into the front himself.

"Seb, back to my place, we have a house guest." He said, his smile never faltering, his plan had worked.

* * *

**A/N A huge thank you to MidnightMoonWarrior the best beta around! Seriously guys, you should have seen this before she'd got her hands on it!**

**Anywho review if you liked, thanks for reading. More is on the way soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N So this one is a bit short and sweet, sorry about that. The next one is longer, I promise.**

Exiting the cab, Sherlock Holmes approached the front door of his flat, 221B Baker Street. Immediately he knew something was wrong, he cautiously climbed the stairs and edged into the living room, gesturing for John Watson to stay behind him. The army doctor did as he was directed, but kept his gun within easy reach just in case; Sherlock's eyes took in the whole room and his brain quickly put a story together.

"Moriarty" he muttered in a low voice; John shivered at the mention of the name. "He kidnapped someone, held them here for two… no, three hours. They left alive, well, they were carried out, alive."

"It was a girl" John said, nodding towards the pile of hair on the floor by the chair; Sherlock took a sample and immediately contacted DI Lestrade with the news.

After sending John to New Scotland Yard with a sample of the hair, Sherlock examined the rest of the flat and noticed the knife embedded inthe wall. He knew better than to touch it and instead looked at it through his magnifying glass. There was something familiar about the fingerprints that he was met with, it was only when he removed his glove that he realized; it was his own fingerprint. The theories which swirled through his quick mind halted, temporarily, by the ringing phone, it was John.

"We found a match, Katy Hampton. She was arrested for petty burglary but was out on police bail. She was supposed to be at the station yesterday afternoon but, obviously, never turned up."

"I need a picture, address and family history." Sherlock said, before hanging up and returning to the knife currently in the wall; carefully he removed it and took it over to his microscope in the kitchen.

Returning to the flat, John carried a fat police file and a banging headache; he was greeted by the sight of Sherlock sitting at the telescope looking puzzled. It was a surprising sight to see, but it didn't last long.

"Latex." The genius finally exclaimed.

"Good afternoon to you too Sherlock." John replied, without a second thought to the discovery which had been made, balancing the file next to Sherlock on the piles of stuff that covered the kitchen table before walking away to do something about the headache.

**A/N Please review ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N I should probably add the obligatory note about how I don't own any of the Sherlock characters, I do however own Katy **

**Onwards…**

* * *

Katy woke in a huge bed, in a beautiful room; she groaned, stretched, and then rolled over before snuggling back into the soft pillow. She had no clue where she was, but it was so comfortable that she hardly cared.

Consciousness came back a bit later with an amazing, bitter, nutty smell;it was comforting and though she had no idea where she was, she wasn't scared. No one was trying to kill her here; she would figure the rest out later. She sat up in the bed and stretched, before searching for the source of the amazing smell; it turned out to be a steaming mug of hazelnut coffee. She wrapped her hand around the mug and lifted to her chest, before turning her attention to the note that sat beside it.

'_Good morning,'_it said. _'So you are probably slightly confused. Please come down to the living room when you feel ready and I will try to explain things to you. Jim.'_

Katy read the simple note a few times before folding again and finished her coffee; she set the empty cup back on the bedside table and noticed there was no clock. The lack of time dawned on her, she had no idea how long it had been since the park; it felt like a lifetime, but it could have been only a few days. She wasn't sure which bit scared her more; she glanced around the room again, now that her head was slightly clearer than before.

It was neat and well decorated and she felt a whole load safer here than she had in the messy, boyish interior of the previous flat. The room consisted of, wooden floors, a Queen sized bed, at the foot of which was a sandy coloured fabric sofa lined with purple cushions and between that and the door was a purple rug. To the left of the bed were a large oak wardrobe and an oak chest of drawers and to the right was another doorway leading to an ensuite bathroom. The only windows in the room were either side of the bed; Katy could see the light outside in from behind the rich purple of the fabric.

Once again she wondered what the time was, she hunted around for her phone and quickly realized it was not going to be found; it must have been taken from her when she was kidnapped. Then she realized that she was still in the same clothes she had been in before. Lying on the sofa was a dress and, even though it wasn't really her style, she decided that anything would look better than what she was currently wearing; she took it to the ensuite bathroom. It wasn't until she saw her reflection that the memories of what had happened since the park came back. She took in what she saw, the tear stained eyes and short messy hair; Katy couldn't help but think of the Biblical account of Sampson, who lost his strength when Delilah cut his hair. She pushed those thoughts away and tidied herself up a bit; showering and getting dressed helped her relax after the harrowing image that she had seen in the mirror. Though she had to admit that the sun dress looked alright on her, she was far from comfortable in it; she shrugged off the discomfort and went searching for the living room.

It was easy enough to find, as it was just left after the bottom of the stairs, and she found her hero lounging on the sofa typing on a laptop. When she entered, he noticed her almost right away and closed the lid of his device.

"Hello" He gestured to the armchair facing him, giving her a kind expression as he spoke "I'm Jim"

"Katy" She replied, looking around the room only for a moment, before looking back "What am I doing here?"

"I saw what happened in the park and the man, Sherlock Holmes, is not a nice man." Jim looked down, as if a tragic memory was haunting him and he took a breath before continuing. "He thinks you are working for me and assumed you have important information, I feel partly responsible for what happened."

Katy frowned, the more this man spoke the more her head spun; she couldn't keep up" Why, what did you tell him?"

"I may have hinted that you worked for me but I had no idea he would find you and come after you."

"Why would he care if I worked for you? Who are you?" Jim smiled at the question; many people had asked just what she had and, well, many people died when that happened.

"I am a" he paused, as if searching for the perfect word, "consultant. I help people with their security systems. The man who abducted you, he is an international jewel thief but he sidelines as a consulting detective to cover his tracks." The slight smile Jim had on his face turned into a full on smirk; she nodded, taking the new information in slowly, as her head still seemed to be a bit fuzzy." Sherlock thinks you knew where to find the floor plans for a certain sheikh's vault. That was the information he wanted. This sheik though, he is worth billions, he's put most of his money into one diamond, the Darya-ye Noor, sister stone of Koh-I-Noor. Sherlock wants to steal it. I want to make sure no onewill."

"Wait," Katy muttered. "Koh-I-Noor, isn't that part if the crown jewels?"

"Indeed," Jim was surprised at the information, that she actually knew, and in the back of his mind, he knew someone was going to be in trouble; they had told her she was a simple, petty thief. That she only did small jobs to pay the bills. "Now, though. I have some work to do. There is a library upstairsif you want to do some reading, I'm afraid the only computer I have is here" He gestured to the laptop beside him. "And it has sensitive information on, so you can't use it. If you give Moran your address I can get him to fetch some of your own clothes for you. A figure appeared at the door; tall, with a thin face and long dark hair, Sebastian Moran seemed more solemn than his employer, but equally mysterious. "Seb, show Katy the library, get her address and collect some clothes for her." 'Seb' nodded and led Katy out of the room. "Oh and Seb" He turned back to Jim. "Get her another coffee; she looks like she needs it."

* * *

An hour later, Katy stood in the Library browsing the collection of books available and occasionally taking a sip of the coffee Sebastian had brought to her; in return she had given him her address along with some guidelines of things to bring back. She didn't exactly feel comfortable about the situation she was in, but surely it was better to have some kind of protection after her ordeal. She felt safe now or at least safer but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was forgetting something. Taking another sip of coffee, she was barely able to keep from spitting it out when it came back to her; she had missed her appointment at the police station!

Once the immediate panic had worn off Katy thought about the situation, she thought through her options and decided the best would be to talk to Jim. She finished her coffee and made her way back to the living room. Jim was still sitting on the sofa with a frustrated expression. He closed the lid of the laptop and looked up at the girl in the doorway.

"Can I help you?" he said with a hard edge to his voice.

"Sorry," She said, nervously rubbing the back of her neck. "I erm had an appointment, with the police, and I er missed it because I was, you know elsewhere." Jim nodded hiding the smirk playing on his lips as a pout of interest. "And well, would you be able to explain to the police where I was. I think they'd believe you, and, I don't want to go to prison."

"That's fine; I'll give them a call and explain." He said with a sigh, he had no intention of phoning them; he knew Sherlock would already be on the case. "Thank you" She breathed, relief consumed her mind, and she left her savior to go back to his laptop and returned to the library. With her mind now at ease she decided to lose herself in a book.

* * *

**A/N So, that was Chapter 3, on a random note, imagine a MorMor dress shopping trip, I dare you not to write about it! If you do, let me know, I want to read it!**

**Just a quick heads up, this is all I have completed so far, I am currently working on the next 3 chapters but the Chapter 4 is being a total pain! I would guess that I might be able to get it up in a few days time, but no promises.**

**Thank you for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Sorry for the delay, this has been a total pain to write. The next one should hopefully be a bit sooner.**

Sitting crossed legged in his favourite chair, Sherlock stared blankly at the wall; John on the other hand sat typing on his laptop, detailing their latest case to post on his blog. Three nicotine replacement patches lined one of Sherlock's thin pale arms, closing his eyes he arched his fingers and let out a big sigh "Shut up John, I am trying to think."

"I didn't say anything Sherlock" John closed his laptop; even though he knew Sherlock would need silence to think more deeply, the roughness of the demand still irked him.

"Your typing is getting on my nerves and I need absolute silence" Sherlock opened one eye for a moment to see John don his coat and walk out the door, he waited for the prickly comment he knew his flatmate would fire.

The jaw of ex army doctor tensed as a few specific words came to mind. "I know you must think you are the only one with any brains, but you're not. I'm going out, try not to destroy the flat down with your immense IQ." With that, John slammed the door and walked down the stairs, with perhaps louder than necessary steps. He knew that the words were harsh, or more likely meaningless to the other man, but the truth was Sherlock wasn't the only one who was stressed out over the situation. John decided that they both needed a bit of space, he resolved to let Sherlock think in peace and visit Katy's flat once again.

"Good. Maybe now I'll have some peace" On the other side of the now closed door, Sherlock tried to summon his infamous mind palace to find clues that would lead to the rescue of the kidnapped damsel. He placed his forefingers on his temples in an effort to focus his mind, it did little good, but he wasn't going to give up, not when the lack of links was driving him crazy. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he needed more data before he could properly theorize.

* * *

On the other side of London, John entered the spacious flat, only to be taken aback once again by the stylish decor. He had been expecting a bit of a dive considering the current occupation of the owner, but it seemed to be a nice flat, in an expensive part of town no less. He recalled the conversation he and Sherlock had on their previous visit.

_"From what I can tell at a glance," Sherlock said, taking in the whole flat. "Katy had had a happy childhood before her parents died young. They left her their fortune, but she had been thrown off balance by her parents' fate and had left school. She is intelligent, but dangerously emotional at times; her focus needed to be channelled in life and she chose robbery; the very same profession that had perhaps led to the grasp of a certain James Moriarty. Then again, just because she stole things doesn't mean she deserved to be kidnapped."_

_"Right, how?" He remembered saying, completely stunned at Sherlock's rapid deductions._

_"The family situation is obvious; there are no recent photos of the family but many from when she was younger. Also, I have read her file, her parents died when she was 15; she dropped out of school and went off the grid, until the police caught her for petty burglary 3 months ago." After his explanation, Sherlock had gone very quiet as he got into the zone, looking around the flat for any clues._

John followed the route the detective had taken. As soon as he entered her bedroom, he could tell something was distinctly off; clothes were thrown around the room, carelessly and quickly, and there was a brown jiffy envelope on the bed. It was addressed to Sherlock; John eyed the package for a moment, before picking it up, gently in case it was dangerous, and made his way back to Baker Street.

* * *

Back in Baker Street, Sherlock's attempts at entering his mind palace were halted momentarily by the entrance of Mrs. Hudson, who placed the post on the desk behind Sherlock. In response to the wordless action, he turned and gave her one of his ice cold stares.

"You have some mail boys," The stare went unnoticed, by the unconcerned landlady, as she spoke warmly. "Not enough people send letters anymore, I remember when everyone used to send letters. This one looks interesting though Sherlock." She held a small envelope, a red wax seal of a magpie pressed to the back of the brown paper.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson, you can leave now." Sherlock said brusquely; she took no notice to his tone of voice but left nonetheless. Pulling on his gloves, the consulting detective grabbed the envelope from where his landlady had left it. He studied it intently, taking in every piece of data available and piecing together what he could of the author. The writer had been interrupted as he was writing, as the ink was swayed slightly towards the end, and the wax was from a candle; it had been melted with a lighter, not a match. The stamp had been used previously, four times to be exact, and the letter had been hand delivered, by none other than James Moriarty himself no more than 5 minutes ago.

Rushing from his perch, Sherlock stared out of the window, and saw a figure stepping out of Speedy's Café.

Takeout coffee in hand, Moriarty turned to meet eyes with the curly haired detective, before flashing one of his biggest unnerving grins. Without hesitation, Sherlock bolted down the stairs and out the door. When he finally reached the spot he had seen his most dangerous nemesis, Moriarty had gone, safely stowed in the back of a car that sped away. The detective swore to himself, deciding to make his way back into the flat. There, he noticed the envelope again and, against his better judgment, opened it.

Enclosed in the brown paper was a single, simple piece of paper, a note. It read,

_You disappoint me; I thought you were better than this. You cheated and because of that, everything that happens next is on your shoulders; you brought this on yourself. From my perspective, it looks as though you need another story. Rapunzel has been chosen for our tale, although, she seems to have no hope of escape. You see, some naughty person cut off all her hair. So now she waits, trapped in the tower, my tower, waiting for her prince charming. But who could ever fill that role? I suppose Sir Boast-a-lot might do. I suggest you hurry; the hopelessness of the princesses is growing by the day._

_Auf Wiedersehn,_

_Gothel_

He read and reread it, trying to match all the clues together and figure out the plan of the man who always seemed to be a step ahead. He still didn't seem to have enough data. It was an hour later when John returned to find Sherlock in the same position, as if the man had not moved an inch in his time away.

"I thought I would do something to help, so I went back to her flat" John said, to what seemed like an empty room, as Sherlock remained still and silent. The former soldier continued, placing his coat on the sofa. "Someone had been there since we last went, they took some clothes from the wardrobe, and they left a package" The seemingly frozen position of the taller man reacted to the last comment, his gaze shifted at an unnerving rate to his flat mate.

"What kind of package?" He hissed, hoping the smaller man would be quick with the information.

"See for yourself," John handed the jiffy bag to the now alert detective and it was immediately opened by slender and precise, yet frantic fingers. The contents were revealed to be a small metal tin, the kind breath mints came in; Sherlock turned it over in his hands, measuring, testing, and assessing. There was no imminent threat, no bomb. It was obvious that Moriarty was too involved in the story for a simple ending like that; Sherlock took the tin into the kitchen, clearing a space by the microscope. Slowly and carefully, he opened the tin, the contents making his eyebrows furrow. Not many things confused him, but as he looked at the coffee like substance he couldn't work out how it fitted with the story. It looked like normal instant coffee and smelled as such, but it couldn't be. He took a sample on the tip of his finger, sniffing it before placing it on the tip of his tongue. The moment it reached his taste buds, he knew it was nothing good and spat it out; the next sample went on one of the microscope slides rather than in his mouth. He continued his investigation with a few more tests, before turning to John expressionlessly for what was to be said.

"He is drugging her." Sherlock stated no hint of emotion present.

"Yes Sherlock." John said as coldly as possible, trying to reflect Sherlock's clinical tone.

"Don't tell me you're still angry John." Sherlock said over his microscope at his cross armed flatmate.

"I'm surprised you noticed." John raised his eyebrows, his voice hinting strongly at his annoyance.

"This isn't about me and you John, this is about her. The drugs she is being given are going to make her completely unstable mentally. I need you; I need you to help me calm her down when we find her." Their eyes met and John instantly knew Sherlock was being serious.

"So how are we going to find her? Do you really think Moriarty is going to let us know where she is?"

"I already know where she is, he already told us." Sherlock picked up his phone and started to type.

"What, how?" The doctor review each of the clues Moriarty had given trying to piece together all the information, his concentration was broken by Sherlock's deduction.

"Moriarty delivered the note personally, so we know she is somewhere in the city. Katy doesn't think she is in any danger from him; the drugs are in the coffee and she trusts him enough to accept hot drinks. So she is in a flat or house in the city. He won't let her out of his 'tower'; he sent someone else to her flat to get her some more clothes. So she is somewhere Moriarty doesn't mind staying himself, somewhere up market considering the state of her flat. He referred to their residence as a tower and her as Rapunzel; they are in a penthouse apartment. Moriarty would be an idiot if he stayed at his personal home, so we are looking at a penthouse flat bought within the last 3 months. He signed his note Gothel, there is a penthouse apartment, in the affluent area of Mayfair, which has leased to a Mr J Gothel 1 month ago." Sherlock said in one breath, he turned his phone to John, showing him the information about the flat.

"Well let's go get her!" John exclaimed grabbing his coat from the sofa.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N So, just a quick heads up, there is a little bit of violence and gore in the first bit of this chapter.**

The figure inched closer, knife glinting in his hand; she suppressed a scream and pulled against the bindings fastening her to the chair, she was back in the same flat as before. The man's face was obscured but she had no doubt that this was the same man as before, Sherlock. She yelled for Jim to help her and tugged again at the ropes holding her, fear and panic pulled at her chest, she didn't want to die.

Sherlock continued closer laughing at her weakness, "He isn't coming, he can't save you." He gestured the knife in his hand towards the kitchen behind him, only then did she realize that both he and the knife were covered in blood. She screamed, taking in the image before her; blood spattered walls closing in and framing the wooden table. On it was a motionless form surrounded by a pool of blood and she felt herself ready to sob; it was Jim and he was dead.

* * *

James Moriarty stood in the doorway of the bedroom, observing his current ward tossing and turning in the vast bed. She muttered vague distresses, the sheets wrapping around her, tighter and tighter with each moment that went by. This sight was not disturbing to him; if anything it thrilled him,after all, he had planned everything precisely. Suddenly, she started to scream, sitting bolt upright in bed. Her eyes opened rapidly, tears pouring down her face as she breathed heavily, verging on hyperventilating. He moved out of view, before coming forwards into the room, tousling his hair to complete the image that he had just woken up.

"It's okay," He soothed with a hint of a yawn. "You are safe."

"Jim, you, you died. He killed you. That man, that horrible, evil man, he killed you." She sobbed into her hands as her hero sat down on the edge of the bed and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"No honey, I'm safe, he can't get you here, and he wouldn't dare hurt me." He rubbed her shoulder slowly as she nuzzled her head into his chest, the comforting, manly scent calming her down in the process.

"Thank you" She said, sniffing and wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. "I'm not normally like this, probably just shaken by what happened." She sat up again, removing herself from her savior's grasp. After a few breaths, in which they sat in a comfortable silence, she spoke again. Her tone was low and unsteady, nearly cracking at moments, but Jim paid no mind as she voiced her concerns. "I want to believe that I'm safe, but how can I be sure? Would you mind if I made some changes...to the room that is?"

She looked at him, her pupils dilated as a sign of her visible fear; she was so vulnerable and it was all he could do not to kill her right there and then. He could almost feel her neck between his hands, her heartbeat quickening as the truth of the situation she was in dawned on her, before stopping completely when he squeezed tighter. At least then she would finally be put her out of her misery. But no, he restrained himself, as he had a plan and he would see it through to the end.

"Of course. Tell Seb what you need in the morning. I'll also get him to teach you how to shoot a gun, and then perhaps you might feel a bit safer. I have some work to do tomorrow so I won't be around. But for now, darling, try and get some sleep." Katy nodded, snuggling back into the Irishman's chest. Moriarty smoothed her hair, silently cursing himself internally; he had come too close to ending her, if he wanted this to work, he had to be more careful.

* * *

Back in 221B Baker Street, despite the foolishly enthusiastic outburst of his flatmate, Sherlock Holmes remained seated at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the fridge.

Exasperated by the lack of a reaction, John Watson turned on his flatmate "Sherlock, why aren't you moving?"

The detective shifted and refocused his gaze to John. "It's a trap. I don't know what Moriarty is planning, if he gave us the clues to find him, but it's obvious he wants us to go there."

"Sherlock, this girl's sanity, if not life, is in danger. We know where she is and we should go." Rebutting with absolute conviction, John slid his coat around his shoulders.

"And if it's a trap?" Sherlock countered, coldly unconvinced that the perceived danger to her was worth the rush and the possibility of losing his lead on Moriarty.

"Then we will figure a way to use that massive intellect of yours to get ourselves out" The doctor smiles, as his detective friend finally rose from his seat, the confidence in his mind seeming to convince him. Said genius donned his coat and scarf, before heading out the front door.

"What are you waiting for Watson? We have a girl to save"

* * *

Stretching into the vast, empty bed the next morning, Katy sighed as she remembered the events of the previous night. Embarrassment filled her when she remembered crying on Jim's shoulder, yet at the same time, there was a hint of joy that she actually had a shoulder to cry on. It had been a long time since she'd had such companionship, not since her parents had left her. She scanned the room for any signs of him, nothing. Just like her first morning in the residence, there was a steaming cup of coffee and a note on the bedside table; she sipped the rich drink and glanced over the note.

_I have some important business to attend to but I've asked Seb to help you with your DIY. Be ready for a special dinner at 8._

_Jim_

The idea of dinner with Jim made her smile and Katy quickly dressed to begin the day. Sebastian, she found, was finishing his breakfast in the kitchen. She joined him and he soon pulled out a small handgun, placing it on the table between them.

"Do you know anything about guns?" Sebastian grunted, unhappy with the prospect of babysitting her.

"I know a bit." Katy picked up the gun, weighing it carefully in her hand before checking the sight. Aiming it at a cup, the barrel was cocked, and the porcelain shot before another word was spoken. The shattered pieces of the cup fell to the floor as she relished the feeling of recoil, before placing the gun back on the table between herself and a stunned Sebastian.

"You can keep that one, I have a spare" Seb said, standing to retrieve a holster from the cupboard behind him.

Taking it from him, Katy secured the gun under her arm before giving Sebastian a list of materials she needed to improve the safety level of her room. After this, he left her to go gather said supplies, while she made her way back to her room to plan on what improvements would be made.

After the incident with the cup Sebastian was feeling slightly more optimistic about the day they would spend together. He made his way to her bedroom his arms full of technological goodies; he had all sorts of laser detectors, trip wires, two large metal bars and fourslightly shorter ones. Sebastian made a start on fitting the bars to the windows whilst Katy got to work on the laser sensors on the door frame.

The pair continued working in silence, until Katy, uncomfortable with the lack of noise started to hum a faint tune to herself. She often would while she worked, she found the melody would help her to focus. Sebastian rolled his eyes; why women were never comfortable with the silence was beyond him, in his line of work any kind of noise could jeopardize the whole cleared his throat loudly in an attempt to shut her up. The thief was not used to having a constant human presence and didn't know how best to react to the obvious attempt to silence her.

"So, have you known Jim for long?" Katy asked, putting on the persona she tended to save for when she needed to charm her way out of dangerous situations.

"8 years." Sebastian said coldly, as Moriarty had told him not to tell her anything that could be used against them in case the plan failed. Katy took the hint and kept quiet. The sniper felt sorry for the girl, he didn't want to talk about work, but he thought of a topic he could ask her about. "Where did you learn to shoot like that?"

"My Dad taught me." Katy said, with a smile as she remembered her late father and the trips they used to take to the country. "He would take me with him on his hunting trips at the weekends but he never liked the idea of me using a shotgun. He said it wasn't ladylike, but he wanted me to be able to look after myself, so he taught me how to shoot rabbits with a handgun instead." Katy stifled the tears welling in her eyes. Her father would be so disappointed with where she had ended up. "Sebastian, do you think, when this is all over, that Jim might offer me a job? I am sick of being on the wrong side of the law, and I could help him with his safety precautions."

"I don't see why not." Sebastian stifled a laugh and turned back to the window. "Let's get this finished first eh?" Katy took the hint and went back to humming to herself.

Little to say, a lot had to be done, but by the end of their work, she felt safer already. The windows were barred, the door prepared with a laser sensor system, and there was an automatic lock on the bathroom door, triggered by a remote. There was also of course the gun under the pillow, and the one Katy would keep on her person at all times.

**A/N Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

**The next chapter probably wont be up until after 9****th**** June. I am going on holiday. Woop **


	6. Chapter 6

Pleased with her efforts by the end of the day, Katy reflected on the hard work from both herself and Sebastian while readying herself with her meal with Jim. Face powdered, gun hidden by her floor length evening gown, and stepping into her favourite Kurt Geiger stilettos, she made her way down the stairs to him. Waiting patiently in the hall, her hero held out his arm to her, which she took, and the pair made their way to the waiting car.

As they drove through the Mayfair roads, on their way to Scott's where Jim had booked a private room, Katy could help but think of her own flat. However much she appreciated Jim's kindness in taking her in during this difficult time, she missed the comfort of having her own space; she was used to her own company. Katy wasn't sure how long she had been in Jim's care, it struck her that she didn't know what day it was. She ignored the niggling sensation at the back of her mind, the hesitation that came when she asked herself how she felt so comfortable, and focused on the meal that lay ahead.

She smiled to herself as the car pulled up, a crisply dressed doorman helping them inside; the special treatment made her realize how much she had missed with her current lifestyle. Entering the restaurant, the doorman became a host.

"Reservation for Moriarty" Jim said, his tone bored at the time it was taking the man to find them on his list.

"Right this way sir" The waiter replied with a cheery smile as he led them along the carpeted walkway, around the dramatic marble oyster and champagne bar, to their private room. The air of exclusivity wafted around them, shown by its dark wood and brown leather, but lifted further by the white linen tablecloths and arty wall length mirrors. If Moriarty was hoping to make her feel small and inadequate, he had failed; Katy lapped up the lavish extravagance.

"I'll order for the both of us, if you want love." Jim said a hint of something in his eyes that she couldn't quite place.

"It's probably for the best, I haven't been anywhere like this in a long time." Katy replied, looking over the wine menu; most of it seemed vaguely familiar, though very foreign at the same time, she shifted slightly as the waiter returned and waited for Jim to order.

"We will start with champagne, a bottle of Krug Collection 1985 and Beluga Caviar, followed by roasted shellfish for two, and then a bakewell pudding with almond ice cream for the lady and raspberry trifle for myself. And 2 Irish coffee's to finish."

"Certainly sir." The waiter said, totting up a rough estimate of the bill in his head as he went to get a bottle of the most expensive champagne from the special cooler.

* * *

Leaving the flat, Sherlock and John entered the busy London street to hail a cab. Luck was on their side and a cab pulled over almost immediately, they arrived five minutes later at Moriarty's flat, or what they assumed was his flat. The taller of the two quickly worked on the lock, before they both entered the exquisite apartment.

"It seems very quiet" John said in a hushed tone, taking sweeping looks at the room for threats.

"They aren't here. I don't know where he would have taken her, but it gives us an opportunity to look around." Sherlock headed for the master bedroom, which he had already deduced was Katy's room. He stopped short at the door, turning to John with a slightly distressed look on his face. "Laser sensors" he muttered, before turning back to tamper with the box on the outside of the door. They entered the room, John's firearm at the ready, fearing the worst. It was empty of psychopaths and missing girls, but it was not lacking in clues of their whereabouts; Sherlock noticed the open wardrobe, the clothes all over the bed, and the shoes slung carelessly on the door. "They went out somewhere fancy, more than likely to dinner. She is expecting to come back here tonight."

The soldier took in the information, slowly lowering his gun, but still remaining on guard. "What now?"

"Now, we wait." Sherlock said leaving the room.

* * *

"How was your day?" Jim asked. By now, the waiter had cleared the dessert plates, making Katy flinch as he passed her, in an effort to comfort her, the consulting criminal leaned across the table to and took hold of her hand.

"It was good thank you. Sebastian and I made progress on my room, so I would consider it good. How was your business today?" She was still a little jumpy despite Jim's efforts; the alcohol had a calming effect on her.

"It went very well, thank you. Do you remember how I told you about the Sheik with the diamond? The thing is, this sheik, he doesn't trust his security system yet, and he sent the diamond to the one place he thinks it will be safe." Jim leaned back in his chair, his hand disappearing into his jacket pocket for a moment, before he produced a huge, rectangular diamond. The stone itself was a pale pink color, surrounded by a crusting of smaller diamonds and stones and above the main diamond was a diamond encrusted crown. It was the most incredible thing that Katy had ever seen and she leaned forward, cupping his hands in her own, the stone cradled between them.

"Is this why Sherlock kidnapped me, because he thought I had this?" She said with a slight break in her voice; the consulting criminal removed his hands from hers, before dropping the priceless jewel into her hands. He then placed his hands under hers.

He paused, before replying. "He knew the diamond wasn't in the Sheik's safe, and he thought you would know where it was, if you did not have it on your person."

"Why are you telling me this now?" She removed one of her hands from the diamond and rubbed the bridge of her nose, she wasn't shocked by the information, just a bit confused at the timing of the situation. The alcohol seemed to be having a worse than usual effect on her.

After taking a breath, Jim outlined his reasoning in calm, but deathly serious tone. "I want to prepare you, because Sherlock is coming. I have a plan to capture him, to frame him once and for all. Then everyone will know who and what he really is. But I am going to need your help."

Her head was spinning but response was immediate "What do you need?"

"I need you to find somewhere to hide the diamond, to keep it safe. After dinner, we will go back home, and I will arrange a meeting with Sherlock. While I am there, I will accidentally leak some information about where the diamond is, namely that it is in your room. He will come to the flat to find it, but of course he won't. Then, we will finally have proof that he is not who he really says he is."

Katy seemed to understand what Jim was meaning but her head was getting fuzzier. "Are you sure I will be safe?" She was nervous at the thought of Sherlock entering her newly found haven, but she Jim wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

"I am positive, once we have done this, Sherlock won't be able to hurt you anymore. You know I am here to protect you up until that point." The answer did its job and soothed her nerves slightly as she finally saw an end to the nightmare of fear. Katy smiled, she had her gun safely stowed under her dress and now her hero had promised to keep her safe. The couple took a cab back to the apartment, Katy resting her head on Jim's shoulder, Jim putting his arm around her, holding her closer to himself. He was almost disappointed that she would be leaving him soon. Almost.

* * *

**A/N Next chapter soon, ish, depending how life treats me.**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourited and followed, it means a lot.**


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